


Only Got This Moment

by Mildly_Maddy



Series: Lines We Shouldn't Have Crossed [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drunk Sex, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 09:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7309702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mildly_Maddy/pseuds/Mildly_Maddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Finally Liam leans back, his breath heavy against Louis’s lips and nose, smelling of too many cocktails and cold smoke. Louis licks his lips, clenches his hands around Liam’s arse, refraining from pushing him forwards; Louis’s hard already, a small miracle considering the amount of alcohol he’s got in his veins right now, but then again, logic doesn’t matter much in dreams.</i><br/><br/>Or : Louis and Liam bump into each other in Vegas in April of 2016. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Got This Moment

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr post for easy sharing](http://mildlymaddy.tumblr.com/post/146567081716/the-lines-we-shouldnt-have-crossed-series) :)

Louis’s buzzing, quite literally. The music is thrumming through him, from the root of his hair to his fingertips, and the countless drinks he’s had have softened the edges of everything around him. Everything except for Liam, standing there as sharp and solid as ever, a beacon in the dark - or in this case, in the flashing strobe lights. 

Everything's perfect for a second or two, Louis congratulating himself on another impulse decision, his lips still tingling with the ghost of Liam's lips, until the expression on Liam's face registers as shock, not awe, and Louis stops moving to the beat, his heart lurching.

Then Liam’s lips are moving, but Louis can’t hear a thing, probably couldn’t hear a thing even if Liam were shouting straight into his ear, the place is so fucking loud. He looks at Liam’s lips as Liam seemingly repeats whatever he said the first time around, then feels Liam’s hand closing around his wrist, tugging him forward, away from the dance floor, through the crowd, all the way to the exit.

Louis follows, glumly, in shock at having done it, and at having Liam’s reaction be so cold. He lets himself be put in a cab, lets Liam climb in with him, distractedly gives the name of his hotel when prompted. He’s drunk, still, drunk enough that he wonders if he’s not going to throw up in the cab, although that might also be from nerves. He was just so happy to see Liam again, is the thing. It had been… how long had it been? Had they seen each other since the Brits, he wonders, watching the Vegas lights flash past the window, his forehead pressed against the cool glass. He doesn’t know what Liam is doing, can’t feel him at all even though they’re sitting next to each other. 

He’d been so happy to see Liam again. And Liam had looked happy, too, his face breaking into that goddamn grin of his, the one that makes his eyes crinkle like mad, makes you feel like you’re standing under a two thousand volt spotlight. So Louis hadn’t even thought about it. They’d been dancing, or their own pathetic version of dancing, Louis’s plaid shirt vanishing into the throng of bodies as his body heated up, Liam’s hands slipping under his t-shirt, fingertips pressed against Louis’s sweaty skin. Louis wanted to press his body against Liam’s from head to toe, and so he had, wrapping his arms around Liam’s neck and pressing his face against it, sneaking his tongue out to take a lick at Liam’s sweat, salty and hot, Liam’s stubble prickling his tastebuds. And because Liam hadn’t moved away, and because his mouth was so close, Louis had just leaned further up and kissed him, full on the mouth, slipping his tongue past Liam’s lips when they parted in what Louis now imagines must have been shock.

The cab stops, and Louis feels Liam’s hand on his wrist again, gently pulling until Louis deigns shuffle out of the car. Someone pays the driver, Louis doesn’t care who, just dumbly follows Liam inside, tells him which floor button to press in the elevator. He suddenly realizes that neither Daniel nor Oli have come back with them, dimly wonders where they got to, or if they’ve been warned at all. Liam hasn’t said anything besides asking for directions ever since whatever he tried to tell him in the club, however long ago that was. He’s not looking at Louis now, staring up at the elevator display as if it were the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. Louis props himself in a corner, wills the nausea back down along with the urge to kiss Liam again.

The elevator doors open with a ding and suddenly they’re standing in front of Louis’s room, and he must have given his keycard to Liam because Liam is opening the door and flicking the lights on, pulling Louis inside after him.

Louis barely has time to wonder if Liam’s going to give him a telling-to when he finds himself pushed back against the nearest wall, the door softly closing next to them, and then there are Liam’s lips on his jaw, his neck, Liam’s fingers hooking into the collar of Louis’s t-shirt and tugging on it to get at his shoulder, and Louis’s not sure he understands what’s happening but fuck if he’s going to question it. He’s probably dreaming this all up, passed out in the VIP room of whichever club he’d ended up into. He might wake up any minute to Daniel yelling at him, so he’d better make the most of it, he thinks as he slips his hands into Liam’s back pockets, keeping him close as Liam’s teeth nip at his shoulder before his lips trail back up to his jaw, one of Liam’s hands coming up to bury itself in Louis’s hair, angling his head to the side so Liam can suck a bruise on Louis’s neck, and fuck, maybe Louis took some pills, there’s no way he can have a dream this vivid just thanks to booze.

Finally Liam leans back, his breath heavy against Louis’s lips and nose, smelling of too many cocktails and cold smoke. Louis licks his lips, clenches his hands around Liam’s arse, refraining from pushing him forwards; Louis’s hard already, a small miracle considering the amount of alcohol he’s got in his veins right now, but then again, logic doesn’t matter much in dreams.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Liam says, and Louis’s quite sure that he’s staring at Louis’s lips, his eyelids half closed as he looks down; “but I thought some things are better kept away from prying eyes.”

Louis doesn’t know if he’s supposed to answer something to that, but it doesn’t matter much because the next second Liam’s lips are pressed against his, the hand that isn’t already in Louis’s hair coming up to grab at Louis’s jaw, and fuck, this is much better than any other time he’s dreamt of making out with Liam, he can even feel the outline of Liam’s hard cock against his thigh as Liam presses himself closer, one leg slipping between Louis’s. Liam sucks on his tongue until Louis has to wrench his mouth away to pant openly, each of his nerve endings on fire. He slips his hands out of Liam’s pockets and grabs at Liam’s shirt, wrenching it over Liam’s head without waiting for his permission, before pulling his own t-shirt over and off. He’d usually have woken up by now; whatever pills he took, he’ll have to take again, if he can ever remember what they were. Maybe Oli knows. It doesn’t matter now anyway, not when Liam’s fingers are fiddling with the buttons of Louis’s jeans, yanking his flies open before Liam seems to forget what he intended to do and grabs Louis’s face instead, going back to kissing him, open and wet and desperate, as if Liam is also afraid of waking up too soon.

It only makes Louis more desperate, and as soon as Liam comes up for air Louis sinks down to his knees, undoing Liam’s flies with shaking fingers and yanking Liam’s jeans and pants down just enough to get at his cock, standing hard and red against Liam’s toned stomach for a second before Louis’s fingers close around it and his lips close around the tip, tongue pressing up against the ridge. It’s like fireworks in his head, tastebuds going crazy with the taste of Liam’s cock, Liam’s cock, fuck, he’s got his best friend’s cock in his mouth, and Liam’s swearing up above, one hand clenching in Louis’s hair so tightly it fucking hurts, in the best of ways. Louis doesn’t even know what he’s doing, doesn’t waste time thinking about any of it, about the fact he’s never had another man’s cock in his mouth before and he’s got no real idea how to go about it apart from trying to mimic what girls have done to him before and what he’s seen in countless porno movies. He just knows he wants as much of it as he can take, wants to make Liam come this way, one hand fondling his tightening balls and the other stroking what he can’t fit inside his mouth, his jaw already aching with it, chin slick with drool because he refuses to come up for breath, just in case Liam doesn’t let him suck him back if he does.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, dimly registers an ache in his knees despite the thick hotel carpeting, Liam’s fingers now petting his hair instead of pulling at it. Liam’s talking, but Louis can’t make out the words through the roaring of blood in his ears. He hopes Liam’s talking dirty, has always liked a bit of dirty talk and is pretty sure it must be amazing coming from Liam’s mouth. He can feel the taste of precome on his tongue, recognizes it from tasting himself on girls’ lips when he was too impatient to let them finish him this way, too eager to sink into them and hear them moan their approval. He hopes Liam’s going to come soon, his jaw’s truly killing him, when Liam’s balls go hard as rocks against his fingers and Liam’s cock slips out of Louis’s mouth. Liam must have leaned back, must have wanted to be polite, for fuck’s sake, except pulling back means Louis gets hit right in the face, managing to snap his eyes shut a split second before a streak of come lands on his eyelid, then another on his lips, and one on his collarbone as Liam takes a step back, gasping. Louis can feel the rush of air and the vibration on the floor as Liam sinks down to his knees. He’s considering the merits of opening his eyes when he feels hands on his face, one thumb swiping at the come on his cheek before Liam’s lips brush against his, and fuck, is Liam licking his own come off Louis’s face, because that’s not something Louis had ever thought of before and it is really. fucking. hot.

It’s in fact so hot, Liam trailing his lips and tongue over Louis’s face, that at first Louis doesn’t even register Liam’s fingers creeping in his pants, not until they close around his cock in a tight fist and start stroking, fast and sure. He opens his eyes then, goes almost cross-eyed with Liam so close, his pupils wider than Louis’s ever seen them, his brow slightly furrowed with concentration. Louis breathes out a “fuck” and Liam’s eyes dart up, and if Louis thought Liam jerking him off was hot, it’s nothing compared to Liam jerking him off while staring straight into his eyes.

It takes no time at all, five minutes at best of relentless stroking and some sloppy open-mouthed kisses, before Louis comes with a strangled shout, head falling back against the wall with a thud, experiencing instant regret at not having looked down to see his come streaking Liam’s fist and thigh. Liam slumps down against him, his forehead hot against Louis’s sweaty shoulder, and they stay like that for a while, panting, until the air-conditioning cools their skin and makes Louis shiver, his face itching with the remnants of Liam’s dried out come. Liam stands up on shaky legs, his jeans still half around his thighs, his heavy boots still on, and extends a hand down for Louis to grab, because even exhausted from coming that fucker can still pull Louis up as if he weighed nothing. Louis loses focus a bit then, stumbling out of his clothes and into bed with no thought spared about cleaning himself up since what does that matter in a fucking dream anyway. He can feel Liam moving around the room, hear the noise of a faucet running, then there’s something wet and warm against his face and he angrily bats Liam’s hand away without opening his eyes, burying his face in his pillow. Sleep, actual dreamless sleep, that’s what he needs now. The mattress dips under Liam’s weight as he lies down next to him, and Louis grins. He still doesn’t know what those pills he took were, but they were worth every penny he doesn’t remember spending.

  
  



End file.
